Selam’s story: ‘Journey of Life’

Selam Gerzher-Alemaya, kindly shared this story from her childhood in Ethiopia with me, back in November 2008. It is with Selam’s permission, that we have repoduced, with no edits, the short form version of a much longer essay.

I woke up in my mother’s arms next to my baby brother. It was the year of chaos, because the government of Ethiopia was changing. My country was dividing and Eritrea was splitting from it. I was twelve years old. I heard voices around my neighborhood saying, “Ethiopians get out of our country.” My mother, frightened, hurried. She yelled in a panicked voice, “Get a sweater for your brother and yourself!”

            I panicked too because I never heard my mother raise her voice in such a tone. My mother held my brother on her back and pulled me and held my hands so tight I could feel her hands shake. I was leaving friends and neighbors. I was leaving the people I had known my whole life. We left everything we owned behind us. I looked back to see if I could find any of my friends. No one I knew was watching me leave. I was entering hopelessness.

            I saw people walking alongside us, with the same look that my mother had. Another mother had three kids, one on her back, one in her arms, and the last one dragging beside her. I also saw a man holding his baby on his shoulders. A terrified, bare footed old lady ran for her life towards the bed of the truck. The truck was like an army truck, filled with people like me. The trucks were hug, dirty, and so full of people that I couldn’t breathe very well. There was no cover over the beds of the trucks for any protection against weather. People climbed on the trucks as they were leaving like salmon traveling upstream. When it was my turn to get into the truck, it felt like a strange dream. This started my struggle for survival.

            I sat next to my mother in the truck, squished with dirt and people. Each time I inhaled I smelled sweat and fear. My mother crouched on the floor as best she could with my brother in her lap and me clinging to her. The ride was rough; kids cried for food. The mothers were helpless. I wanted to help so badly, at least with the kids, but there was no way. I was out of energy, hungry and thirsty. My throat was as dry as a desert.

            Going through the high mountains of Ethiopia, the battle for survival continued. The road was narrow. I looked down. The wind was blowing and I felt that I was as light as feather. The sky was mixed with the colors of thunderstorms, the kind with cold, hard hail. The hail was pounding our bodies. My mother tried to cover my brother and me with her body; doing anything she could to protect her children. It was freezing cold. I was shivering. The people were screaming for help, for protection from the elements, but there was nowhere to hide. I could see the same thought in each of their cold stares; we were walking to our deaths. I looked around feeling that I was not meant to live, that these would be my last moments on earth.

            As we neared the cliff, I could see all too easily over the edge. I looked down to see the bottom, but it was bottomless. Then we saw the hairpin turn ahead. The fear that I had before was nothing compared to the terror I felt now. We held each other so tightly that I imagined my hands would break. At times there would be bursts of screams, so we held each other, even tighter. I found out later what those screams meant, a whole truck was missing; fallen off the mountain. For three days this continued. Even some of those who made it to the refugee camps died soon after because of the ordeal.

            My family and I did survive, but that was only the beginning of our journey. There has been much more; like my hunger and my mother’s hunger as she sacrificed her food for me. I have felt so isolated many times in different areas trying to find a place to live.

            My journey has not ended. I have come far, but I will not rest until I have striven for every chance that my mother has offered to me through her sacrifices. Though the journey has been long and I have left everything behind, I realize I have to be thankful because so many other people never made it this far.